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Write What You Want

A short story dedicated to those who brought about April 26th 2016 which shall forever be known as The Glorious Day of the Space Raptor Butt Invasion.

“Screw it, write what you like.” The Vile Faceless One said bluntly to the trembling Ilk before him.

Other Ilk watched the exchange from a safe distance which considering one of the Vile Faceless Ones was involved was quite a distance indeed. This Ilk had not been doing his evil duties to full efficiency and one of the Supreme Dark Lord’s Personal Enforcers had dropped by to investigate.

“But they’ll call me racist,” The Ilk squeaked.

“So ask them why they are ashamed to be white, when white people are so awesome?” The VFM declared as if this was the obvious answer. Which it was.

“They’ll call me sexist,” The Ilk continued

“So laugh in their faces! Why listen to the screeching harpies and wobbling butter golems.” The Vile One answered. “The modern feminist state offers you nothing. So give them nothing in return.”

The Ilk was confused by that answer and clearly under the influence of some lingering blue pills. “They’ll call me transmisogynistic.”

“That’s not a real word.” The VFM declared. “And even if it was it’s still better than being a self-hating gay man who hated being gay so much that he cut off his dick and became a female indie game developer.”

The Ilk was knocked to the ground by the psychic power of that most evil truth but was able to draw himself slowly to his feet, trembling.

The Faceless One stood there brooding his facial features shifting frantically as he thought and small wisps of sulphurous smoke rose from his fingertips. Then he burst into a thunderous laughter both terrible and beautiful.

“I know what your problem is,” He declared to the Ilk cowering before him. “You still care.”

The disgraced Ilk squealed an wordless protest but to no avail. This got the other Ilk watching in the shadows to begin cackling with evil glee just as they had been taught in basic minion training.

“Why do you CARE what your ENEMY thinks?” The VFM asked with a cold elemental fury. “The SJW is your ENEMY! It doesn’t matter what they think. They are your ENEMY!”

“But they hurt my feelings,” The lesser minion squeaked out.

“Fuck your feelings!” The Vile Faceless One declared with a force that shook the ground. “Your feelings don’t matter only the Will of the Supreme Dark Lord!”

There was an audible gasp from the watching Ilk at the mere mention of He Who Should Not Be Questioned.

“What part of the Evil Legion of EVIL did you not understand when they dragged your worthless ass out of the spawning pits?” The Vile One said slowly back towards the cowering minion.

“No mercy! The VFM screamed at full terrible force as he was now speaking not only to this Ilk but to all the others gathered around lurking in the shadows. “No weakness! And none of that strange human emotion known only as love!”

The gathered Ilk cackled among themselves but did not leave the shadows.

“We are the Evil Legion of Evil! WE DON’T CARE!!!” The Vile Faceless One bellowed the battle cry of the Legion. “We drink the blood of SJWs. We gnaw on their delicious bones We dance on the smoking ashes of their shattered dreams! WE DON’T CARE what our enemies think!”

A great hurrah rose from the watching Ilk and some of the Dread Ilk who had quietly joined them without being noticed. Still none left the shadows.

The Vile One walked over to the cowering Ilk and picked him up by the throat. ”Repeat after me.” He ordered. “I… don’t… care.”

The disgraced Ilk replied with a pathetic gasping squeak. Which was the best he could do since the VFM was choking the life out of him.

“Good enough,” The Vile One declared before tossing the lesser minion to the ground like a rag doll. “I’d torture you more but I have other business of the Supreme Dark Lord to see to.” the VFM said as he dusted his hands off to remove the lingering stench of mercy before giving out a piercing scream known only as the Dread Whistle.

Summoned by a superior one of the Dread Ilk pranced out of the shadows. The Dreadful One moved with an uncanny grace and agility despite the heavy weight of his many weapons. He stopped before the Vile One with a bow.

“Break every bone in his body except three chosen at random and then throw him in the Pit of Woe for four days. If he survives he may return to his evil duties,” The Vile Faceless One ordered passing his Judgement. It was a remarkable light sentence but the Evil Legion of Evil would be going into battle soon and there was no reason to thin out the ranks more than was absolutely necessary to enforce discipline. Besides recruiting new minions was such a bothersome chore.

“As the Dark Lord wishes,” The Dreadful One answered with a sharp salute.

“The Legion Marches Onwards,” The Vile Faceless One declared to the watching crowd before teleporting away to see to other more important business.